This is not ‘a Clash of Civilisations’
This is Civilisation crashing. Humans
Bashing, lashing out with little more
Reason than that some group nesting
In an ivory tower or some charismatic
With a self-entitled power over a herd
Can, with a few choice words, find an
Economic, socially demonic benefit in
An insidious suggestion or two. Or ten.
But then, who is still bothering to count,
Dissect and analyse but those with a
Vested interest in variations on the same
Lies? I’m afraid I tend to see statistics,
Polls and trolls as sources of ridicule
The tragi-comedy of our
Age, writ large – to the decimal point.
The word is, in the Press and on the telly,
Anyway, that all this bull we’re watching,
Reading, arguing vociferously with each
Other over, is where the best debate
Should be. And, of course, this is nearly
All we get to see. All we’re supposed to.
Sheep, obliging in every sphere, on every
Level, from those bestowed with Authority
To those who just suppose they have it.
It’s the most disserving and degenerative
Framing. People all over, complaining about
The wrong details, missing the point, fussing
Over petty nuance but anxiously and so
Conveniently avoiding both the subtle and
The stark realities as plain as day before our
From the everyone must always share
Absolutely everything because it’s only fair
To the I’ll only pay for mine brigade,
From scared, appeasing centrist to the
Lazy relativist – nearly everything reduced by
Elevation – so is populism staged
I could despair! We’re going nowhere while
We focus on the drivel-driven, semi-lucid
(if that, even) ideologues who hog the platforms
And get off on doctrine and irrational paranoia.
Sometimes I feel like logical thought has lost its
Place in the world. And maybe, on the face of it,
It has. Everything is weighed down, coated in
Subjectivity and emotion as though such loaded
Attitudes were not melodrama but universally
They usually aren’t. It’s become a casual abuse
By projection. A collection of knee-jerks – there
Should be a special noun for that. A ‘reflex’ of
Or at least an acronym:
TAT: Tendentious Atomising Timpani
Or something like that…
[This is from 2014. – Before the Cult of Corbyn. Before Brexit. Before Trump. Good grief, eh?]
It’s the normalisation of the base; a place
Made coarse, clothed with the crass.
It’s the lowbrow certainty; the sweep
Of false memory and a collective pride
That adds mass to need
In the voluntary stripping away of dignity
And a will to be less without becoming lighter.
In the lands of my imagination
There exists a nation, wise,
That’s built on ethical foundations
For to see its people – all its people
With Integrity and Honesty,
Equality and Liberty,
Its cornerstones on which
All other bricks look and rely.
There, the atmosphere is friendly
And the population wild but kind
For they have made Society’s priority
Achieving peace of mind.
They recognise you cannot
Put a price on individuals
Who see themselves fulfilled
Through their own eyes;
That a populace that’s confident,
Is not inclined to rush
To crush each other;
Even less to jump to judge
For they have learned a treasure
Through the measurement of time:
They understand true freedom starts
In one’s own heart and mind.
And no one dreams to mess with it
Because their own shoes, comfy, fit;
There, everyone’s a valued peer
And so respect and trust exists
Among them in all spheres.
They care and share
They take and give;
With love to spare,
Can dare to live,
For they have grown
To know the things of common need
And sown the staples, stable, rich
To leave them plenty time and space
In which to be
And nourish their own precious gifts.
There, they have built a world that fits
The people who must live in it.
Light dancing in harmony,
Wise of consonance.
May we find our balance. Good Equinox.